


the world falls away

by goandneverlookback



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor does tap, Deh - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Nonbinary, Tree Bros, Zoe and Evan do ballet, dance au, dear evan hansen - Freeform, evan is bi, female to nonbinary, gay af, i have no clue where im going with this fic but oh well here we go, nb!Evan, tw self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goandneverlookback/pseuds/goandneverlookback
Summary: nonbinary Evan Hansen is a ballerinaConnor Murphy does tapthis summary suck because I haven't decided where to take the plot yet but go ahead and give it a read*working title**TW mentions of self harm, suicide, and mental illness*





	1. Chapter 1

            Evan sets aside their salad, closing the Tupperware lid as they extend their legs to stretch further into the splits. The room is crowded for one of their first full studio rehearsals, leaving Evan to find a deserted corner to have lunch in. Not that lunch counted for much of anything anyways. It’s a dance studio for crying out loud. They tug self consciously at their blue striped polo, hanging loose over the dratted leotard and tights. Don’t get them wrong, Evan loves ballet, loves the dancing, the feeling of becoming one with the music, telling a story with music and motion as opposed to the words that Evan always seems to stumble over. It’s just that ballet tends to be so old fashioned—at least when it comes to gender norms. That’s another thing adding to Evan’s lack of lunch. Full studio rehearsals mean the beginning of performance season. Less lunch and more dancing means a thinner frame, a thinner frame means less of a chest, less of a chest means less undeniable femininity on display for the world to see in nothing but the fitted leotard. Evan grabs their lunch container and heads back to the dressing room. As they walk down the empty hallway, they hear the sound of taps coming from the rooms. The fast, syncopated rhythm draws their ear, and they stop to peer in. A long haired boy dances alone in the room, headphones in, consumed by the music and the dance. Evan can’t help but stare. It’s beautiful, incredible. Tap requires a certain sort of loose jointed freeness that Evan and their anxiety had never quite been able to manage. This dancer makes it seem easy, with their fluidity and their enunciation and all over perfection. Evan wishes they could hear what the boy was hearing, that they could know what was going into those ears, mixing with emotions and processing only the way a dancer’s mind can, and spilling out onto the dance floor. The boy’s hair almost entrances Evan, moving with the larger motions and keeping time with the music as the boy’s head nods along while his feet seem disjointed from the rest of his body. Even without being able to hear the music, Evan can tell the song is reaching a peak from watching the boy’s dance. And then it might be over. Evan wants to clap, but doesn’t want to be that awkward so they just stand there overthinking every detail while hoping the boy might start to dance again. Much to Evan’s dismay, he doesn’t. He tugs out one earbud and turns towards the door, freezing as he sees Evan. Evan’s eyes widen like a deer in the headlights.

            “What are you staring at?” The boy’s voice edges on hostile.

            “I’m so sorry I’ll go.” Evan’s words spill out at a million miles an hour.

            “Come to stare at the loner freak during lunch? Well I hope you enjoyed the show. Come back never. “ The boy grabs his bag from the corner and storms towards the door.

            “Nononono that’s not it at all I don’t think you’re a freak at least not any more than me I don’t have anyone to eat lunch with either I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare I just heard the noise and I was curious and you’re amazing I’m sorry I should go now.” The boy pauses and looks at Evan. Up close the height difference is obvious.

            “You need to take a fucking chill pill, kid.” He storms off back to the rehearsal room, leaving Evan standing alone in the hallway. They watch the unbelievably long legged boy storm down the hallway before turning and continuing to the dressing room. When he returns a few minutes later to the rehearsal room, long legged tap boy is talking to a ballerina with indigo stripes in her hair. Evan’s always found her intimidatingly talented and beautiful. She’s in the level below Evan and easily the best dancer in her year. The boy doesn’t seem interested in the conversation while the ballerina gets more and more frustrated before stalking away to talk to her dance friends. Evan quickly turns their head before either of the two can catch them staring. Too late. The tap boy walks over to Evan’s corner, his strides long and powerful.

            “You have quite a habit of staring, don’t you?” Evan stammers in response, blushing bright red at the confrontation. “Oh my god chill out. I’m not going to murder you or anything. I’m just sitting here, so we can both pretend like we have friends. Zoe won’t get off my ass about spending lunch with people instead of alone in a practice room. No doubt fucking Larry put her up to it.” He takes a deep breath and exhales. “I need a hit.” All of the information overwhelms Evan a little bit, but they try to keep up with this peculiar human being.

            “Zoe is, your sister?” The boy nods in response. “She has class right before me on Tuesdays. She’s really good.”

            “Don’t let her hear you say that. It’ll go to her head.” Evan blushes again and keeps quiet for a bit.

            “Um, if we’re going to pretend like we both have friends, maybe we should introduce ourselves?” They wait for the boy’s shrug in return before continuing. “I’m Evan Hansen.”

            “Connor Murphy.” The boy doesn’t even turn to look at Evan as he says it, just continues staring straight ahead. Evan continues stretching as they study Connor. Faint shadows beneath his eyes must mirror Evan’s. Other dancers came in with layers on top of their tank tops or leotards but Connor and Evan are the only two who haven’t shed their layers yet. Evan can’t help but be curious, and concerned. Not that he’d ever ask though. Not during their first real conversation, with the first person in years who might actually be something close to a friend. The director of the entire studio claps her hands, drawing everyone’s attention. Everyone moves to their spots in the makeshift wings marked by chairs along the sides of the room. The overture begins, and all worries that seemed crushing simply fade into the background.


	2. Chapter 2

_And in the end, I’d do it all again._ Achappe, close. Fourth, close. The music flows through Evan, exploding out in turns and leaps as the music jumps back into high gear with the final chorus. The song finishes and Evan stands, breathing heavily, hands on their hips. A tap from near the door snaps them back to reality, whirling around to see who it is. The boy. Connor. The tap had been him setting his foot down from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe.

            “Definitely never seen anyone dance ballet to Fall Out Boy.” Connor breaks the silence and Evan flushes deep red, stumbling over their words as they try to form a response.

            “I’m sorry it’s weird I know I just forgot my headphones and so—“ The tap dancer cuts Evan off and they fall silent, shocked and a bit unsure. Connor pulls out his phone, turning up the volume before placing it next to Evan’s. They fidget with the hem of their shirt, watching Connor as he walks back to face them. Evan blinks as the familiar chords wash over them and Connor’s feet begin to tap out a rhythm. The verse changes and Evan bursts into motion. Back and forth and tap and ballet and Connor and Evan until the held note of the chorus stills them both. And then they are both flying across the floor, through the air, mirror image, in perfect sync. All of a sudden they are colliding and Connor’s hands are on Evan’s hips and Evan’s hands are on Connor’s shoulders and Connor is strong and Evan is flying and everything feels…right. A pas de duex had never really appealed to either of them, not knowing which side of the pair to be or who to dance with or how to let go and be free with someone else. But this…this feels…okay. More than okay. The song comes to an end and reality crashes in with a cruel awakening. Both dancers let go of each other, as if the contact is fire. Two sets of eyes on the beat up pointe shoes, the scuffed tap converse, the pale grey dance floor…anywhere but on the others. Connor hears Zoe searching for him and leaves without a word. Evan stands there, still, trying to make sense of…anything. Surely Connor hadn’t felt what Evan had, the spark, the energy, the freedom…People like Connor don’t like people like Evan. Connor slams the car door, turning on the engine with a little more aggression than necessary. This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s not supposed to feel things for people, especially not for people like Evan. People like Evan don’t like people like Connor. Nobody does. They’re all scared of him, a wall he keeps solidly built up to keep everyone at arms length, where it’s safe. So why isn’t Evan scared of him? Well, at least any more than Evan is scared of people in general. And why does Connor feel as though Evan has found a crack in his so carefully built wall? A brick missing, a way in, a slip in closer than the distance Connor keeps everyone at. Why is Connor the one scared this time? Heidi arrives to pick Evan up, asking how rehearsal was. They answer vaguely, thoughts still consumed with the dance they shared.

 

 

Find the song Evan dances to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR7U7_cKJw4)

Find the song they both dance to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2YQ3ibJc3o4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Alright so this is suuuuper fluffy but whoops I guess. Everyone needs some fluff once in a while.  
> *I might do some coordinating pics for this fic and note a link to tumblr if anyone would be interested  
> *All Time Low's newest album is t h e s h i t wow im trash  
> *My brother's Eagle Court of Honor is this weekend and I can't believe that what he'll consider one of the greatest achievements of his life contains Donald Trump's signature and official commendation

**Author's Note:**

> * I can't believe you actually read all of that. You're amazing  
> *I have no clue where I'm taking this or if it's even any good. I don't think I've ever written a long fic that wasn't based heavily in angsty emotion  
> *This will be angsty at some point I'm sure. [That's all I really know how to write tbh]  
> *Comment if you want Evan to stay female to nonbinary or go cannon and make them male and have everything be gay af  
> *Check me out on tumblr @ go-andneverlookback  
> *Comment ideas and questions and fun facts because I love hearing from all of you


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